


Metamorphosis

by jergibanana



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Blood, F/F, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:11:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7170575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jergibanana/pseuds/jergibanana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is in her second week after leaving Camp Jaha. She finds herself stumbling into a warrior that leads her into an exile village, where everyone is oblivious to the war that is brewing. Up until the point when they can't be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metamorphosis

Waking up hungry on a hard ground didn’t feel as dreadful anymore. At least she wasn’t getting the nightmares with Mount Weather as much as she did. To look on the bright side, not gaining the vile stares she got from her people while she was at Camp Jaha helps her healing process. Although, she would do the same thing if she were in their place, there were innocent people in that mountain that lost their lives because she pulled that lever. And most nights she could hear their screams and see their bodies spread around her, and the amount of guilt she felt was overwhelming.

The choice was, however, necessary. Or it’s how she likes to think of it. It was for the sake of her people. Everything she’s done is. Now she runs away for her _own_ sake, to keep herself as sane as she can, and they’re still looking at her like she betrayed them. Maybe she actually is betraying them, considering that she took the responsibility to lead them, and now she abandoned them. She needs time to heal; she can’t go back and look at everyone and everything that reminds her of what gave her the title wanheda. She noticed small vans coming and going, she noticed her people in those small vans, probably scavenging parts from the mountain. Wouldn’t blame them, there was some pretty good tech up in there.

The sunlight hit her eyes and she felt the sting in them, which made her push the thoughts away. Her eyes slowly opened and she propped herself up on her elbows. The small river flowing beside her, and only then did she notice her throat was very dry. Her arms were shaky and she could barely push herself onto her feet, and when she did so, there was the soreness in her back that was pushing her down to the ground. Her hand reached for a tree, as if to look for some support, but it didn’t help as much as she wanted for it to do so. Her feet firmly took a stance on the ground and she looked up to the water with determination. As senseless as it sounds, it was. She would never imagine having to assure herself to walk such a short distance. It probably looked laughable, just like her capacity to do anything in this moment. 

Her hand pushed lightly at the trunk and she felt the strain in her legs becoming unbearable. When she reached the river, she barely got herself to lay down on her stomach and her palms reached for the water. Taking the first sip felt life-giving as the water made its way down to her stomach. She drank an amount she felt was crucial, and she pushed herself so she was on her back now, looking up at the sky. Her hair felt very stingy and it possibly looked and/or smelled just as bad but she apparently got used to it. The sun was not as high up, so it was probably not late in the morning, which means the animals should be up by now. 

Which means _breakfast_. 

Her stomach signaled the need for food, but her legs said otherwise. There was still some dried fruit left in her jacket on the assumption that she would find herself in this state. It sounded very deceiving, and she felt the pack in her pocket, teasing. Managing to push the need away and getting herself up on her feet felt like her greatest achievement, ever. Drawing her dagger from her hip, she took in a deep breath and her gaze roamed around the forest, anticipating some kind of movement and/or sign of food. Her ears sharp as she heard a sound coming from the right, something stepping over a branch.

The blonde squatted down, and immediately felt her thighs burning. She clenched her jaw and bit back the pain. Her legs started silently moving towards the sound, right until recognizing it was a deer. This one, thankfully, didn’t have two heads. It was eating some kind of a plant, and Clarke couldn’t help but notice how peaceful the sight was. It’s just an innocent creature, not being aware of how ruthless and corrupt this world was. It made her grin how ironic was the remark _this world_ , and she herself goes by the name wanheda, commander of death. As if the animal heard her thoughts, and looked up at her with bright brown eyes. It didn’t make a move to run away, just stood there, looking at her, not acquainted with the danger it was facing, probably. That made her weak.

“Not today.” Clarke drew back her dagger, and watched as the deer continued to eat its food. She sat down against a tree, and continued to stare at the creature, wishfully thinking how it would be if she could switch places. But death goes wherever she goes. Letting out a huffy breath, she dug her hand into her jacket and found the pack of dried fruit. She grit her teeth in the conclusion that this was indeed her only food left, and she would have to hunt for it later on. But she opened the pack anyway, her hunger drawing back slowly as she ate a piece. Her eyes closed in satisfaction of the lingering mango taste on her tongue. 

Finishing it off the whole pack in a matter of minutes, the plastic bag crushed in her palm and she hummed in comfort. The sun was up high now, light shining only slightly through the enormous branches. She felt her eyelids getting heavy, but she was shook awake from a voice she heard.

“ _It’s a waste of food what you did there._ ” The voice stated in grounder and Clarke rose up to her feet, her eyes roaming the area, looking for it. It was deep but it sounded like it belonged to a woman.

“ _Who are you?_ ” Clarke yelled as she reached for her dagger. She still couldn’t find where the sound was coming from. Her grip on the weapon tightened, and she felt the slight of fear seeping in. Not being able to see a potential enemy is leaving you on thin ice. Her eyes caught a movement upfront, and she took a fighting stance. 

“ _I have no intention to harm, wanheda._ ” Clarke’s jaw clenched at the title and a woman appeared from behind the trunk of a tree. She had dark blonde braids on one half, and her hair flowed freely on the other half. She wore dark green-brownish clothes, which made Clarke assume she was a trikru. She had a small scar on her lower lip, which was barely noticeable because of her tanned skin, her grey eyes holding a stare that could seemingly drill through Clarke just by looking at her. Clarke didn’t notice that the woman had approached her, but she hadn’t drawn back her dagger just yet.

“ _Who sent you_?” Clarke took a step towards the woman, eyeing her from head to toe. She surely did seem like she came straight from the walls of Polis, but that was yet to be determined. 

“I come from an exile village near here,” the woman looked at Clarke’s dagger then met her eyes, tilting her head in confusion, as if to show that wasn’t necessary. “My name is Taria.”

“You speak English?” Clarke asked as she drew back her dagger, but still remained tense under the woman’s stare.

“It is necessary to know it, different clans.” Taria gave Clarke the curt nod again. “But what are you doing in this region?”

Clarke hummed at the question. “Only if I knew.” You could see the hint of a smile, but it was soon gone. She shook her head but she could notice the understanding behind Taria’s stoic expression.

“You are welcome to stay with us, wanheda. That is if there is peace.” 

“Death follows me wherever I go, you wouldn’t want me in your village.” Clarke genuinely answered and the weight of her remark was unbearably hard.

“Sha. But you don’t seem to be doing very well. I would recommend for you to visit our village healer.” Taria looked Clarke from her head to her feet and quirked an eyebrow. “… You may need a thorough cleaning as well.” She gestured for Clarke to follow as she turned on her heel and started walking back from the direction she originally came.

“It’s the hair, isn’t it?” Clarke commented, but there was no response, the woman just kept walking. Clarke started following her, the aching in her legs still there but it has noticeably been reduced. It gave her the strength she needed to catch up to the woman, who remained silent. “You don’t talk much do you?” Taria hummed in response. “Figures.” She huffed as they kept walking.

 

They walked without speaking for what seemed like hours, but in reality it was roughly an hour or so. Clarke wanted to ask how much more was left, but she didn’t want to seem weak, looking at the woman who just kept striding without any sign of tiredness. She was probably a warrior of some sorts, going hunting/patrolling or whatnot. The village seemed far away from where Clarke was previously, though. 

She was on the edge of starting a conversation because the silence was drowning her, but she noticed a torch burning in the distance. After a couple of minutes, they reached the village walls, which were made up of hard wood that almost every grounder village has. When they entered, she was met with the view of tents spread around, some bigger than others. There were some kids running around a campfire, and everyone doing what you would normally do in your everyday life. Merchants were yelling from behind their stands, some people were spread around in groups talking about something, some in grounder and some in English. 

Clarke almost felt bad for walking into such peace because she knew she would do something to destroy it. She always did everything to try and prevent it but it was never enough.

 

_She walked through the halls of the mountain with Bellamy on her side along with Monty, until they came to a halt when they reached the dining hall. It was filled with dead bodies that suffered from the breach, the breach that happened because of the lever her hand was on. There were adults dead on the long dining tables, adults dead on the floor, kids that were still pure and never got involved nor knew about anything that was happening around them. Tears started to roll down her face as she started to walk down the room._

_Jasper was on his knees, with Maya in his hands. He looked up at Clarke and the expression on his face showed pain and broken trust, which she swore she could never forget._

_“You murdered her.” He choked on a sob. “You murdered all of them.”_

_“I’m so sor-“ Clarke started but was quickly cut off._

_“No,” he brought Maya closer to him. “You knew this would happen.”_

_It was either them or her people, and it’s not something that could’ve turned out differently. Clarke wished that everyone could understand, but some of them really didn’t. Bellamy said he would help her carry the weight of it, but she was the only one responsible and the only one they ever blamed on._

 

Talia shook her shoulder lightly, just enough to make her snap out of her flashback. Her look a little worried but once Clarke nodded her stoic expression was back. She motioned for Clarke to follow as she started walking down a dirt path that led to a medium tent which was in the back of the village. As they walked, Clarke couldn’t help but notice how much diversity there was in such a small place. And surprisingly, there was neither arguing nor discrimination between the people that were from different clans. 

Once they reached the tent, they were met two men in front of it, seemingly guarding it. 

“ _We are here to see Akali._ ” Talia stated but the men didn’t seem to have a problem with Talia since they were eyeing Clarke the whole time. 

“ _What is wanheda doing here?_ " One of them gritted through his teeth, you could sense the bitterness from a mile away. Clarke fisted her hands and stepped forward as if to prove something. 

“ _She comes in peace._ ” Talia put her hand in front of Clarke and eyed the two of them again, with the stare she had reserved that scared off most people.

One of them gestured for the entrance. “ _Your funeral._ ”

She gave them a curt nod and led Clarke inside. When they entered, they were met with an older woman looking over a child that had a bruised knee. She had grey hair and black skin, grounder clothes that Clarke couldn’t recognize and dark brown eyes. She was smiling at the kid as he talked about – what Clarke assumed – was his day, not even flinching while she cleaned the bruise. There was a hint of a smile on Talia’s face as well, but Clarke didn’t want to mention it since she liked her head where it was.

“ _… and that’s how I managed to fall down from the tree._ ” The kid grinned at the woman as she rose up to her feet. 

“ _Be more careful next time, Yasuo, you might break something._ ” She smiled back as she patted his head and he nodded and stood up.

“ _I’ll try._ ” He started walking towards the exit but he slowed down when he saw Clarke and Talia. The kid smiled at Clarke and she just watched him leave. When she looked back, the woman was already talking with Talia about something. She looked at Clarke with a frown then back at Talia. 

“ _I noticed some wounds, and I don’t know how they aren’t infected by now._ ” Talia nodded over at Clarke, and they both turned to face her now. “I have to go, Clarke of the sky people. Akali will look over the damage on your body.”

“I’m fin-“ Clarke started but was abruptly cut off by the glare she received from Talia. She kept her mouth shut as the woman nodded and turned on her heel to exit the tent. Clarke turned to face Akali as she approached her and her hand reached for her chin but stopped just before it touched Clarke, as if asking for permission. When Clarke nodded, Akali looked over her face and saw that it was mostly fine, apart from the scar on Clarke’s chin. 

Akali gestured for Clarke to sit down on the bed that the boy previously sat on. Clarke walked towards it without saying a word and Akali moved swiftly around the tent, picking up some bottles and tools. It reminded Clarke of her mother, and she smiled for a moment but it turned into a frown when she saw the alcohol and cotton in Akali’s hand.

“Not a fan?” Akali chuckled as she laid the stuff beside the bed. Clarke shook her head at that, feeling more at ease with her for some reason. The woman looked down at Clarke’s shirt then back at her. Clarke took a moment to process, but she shimmied out of her jacket and her hands reached for the hem of her shirt and it was on the bed in no time. Akali frowned as she saw scars running down on Clarke’s chest, stomach and back as well. 

“It’s not that many.” Clarke shrugged as Akali started pressing her fingers on different spots to check if anything was broken. She couldn’t help but notice that one scar that was bigger than the others which ran down her side.

“Where did you get this one, if I may ask?” 

Clarke looked at it and it reminded her of Mount Weather, when she entered the mountain again and was met with the reapers. Of course, that wouldn’t have happened if Lexa didn’t betray her, they could’ve figured something out that didn’t have to result in so much death. Her lips pursed and she looked back at the woman that was anticipating an answer.

“It is not of import.”

The words felt heavy when she said them but it was easier. She did have to face what she had done, but now was not the time. She didn’t want to scare these people away because of the people she had killed and the things that were necessary at the time. It was for survival and as much as she hates to admit it, it got under her skin and shaped her up. It’s like whenever she does something for her people; the word ‘necessary’ comes up every time. She is told that she has to do that in order to keep them alive, and when she does it, they look down on her for the consequences. 

Clarke looked down on the woman that was pouring alcohol on some cotton and she slowly patted on a fresh wound. Clarke bit her tongue and managed to keep the pain to herself. Akali looked up at her and noticed the frustrated look on Clarke’s face. 

“So, wanheda…” Akali started and Clarke flinched at the sound of the name.

“Clarke is fine.” She gritted through her teeth as the alcohol slowly burned on her wound. How did she even manage to get that one?

“Clarke.” Akali smiled as she finished cleaning the wound and reached for the gauze. “Have you ever tried using a bow and arrow?”

“Tried, yes. Succeeded, no.” 

Akali chuckled. “Well, you should consider it. You’re not in a very good shape for close combat.” She finished wrapping the gauze and taped it, moving to her arms. 

“I am good to fight.” Clarke glared at the woman as if to prove a point, but Akali just touched her ribs and Clarke was hissing in pain. She cursed under her breath and Akali laughed. It was amusing how easy it felt talking to this woman. 

 

The rest of the check-up went pretty fast, because Clarke just kept rambling on about the Ark and some art stuff she likes to do and she was pretty sure half of the time Akali was just nodding and not listening to a word Clarke said but she was still grateful for the help the woman provided.

She was led to a small tent with a bed, a mirror, and a tub filled with warm water along with some soap. Surely that was a good enough sign that Clarke smelled like dog shit and her hair looked awful. It made her chuckle how these people tried to make a point by not actually having to say anything. It was undeniably true, however. She stripped out of her clothes and when she sat in the tub it felt so unbelievably good that there is surely no adjective to describe how relieved she felt. She started off with running her fingers through her hair, putting in some soap and scratching slightly. Their soap smelt different from what they had on the Ark, it felt more natural and once she was out she felt purified. As dumb as it sounds, yes. 

She got into a comfortable slightly oversized grey tee along with black leggings which were provided to her, courtesy of Talia. She laid back in bed and it all felt very simple and life-giving, and she wished she could stay in this village forever.


End file.
